


My Poetry Crate

by FayTheGay



Category: Original Work
Genre: LGBTQ Themes, Original Fiction, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-07-10 14:54:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6989998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FayTheGay/pseuds/FayTheGay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of poems I write when I'm bored. I'll post them whenever I feel like it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Within Each

** Within Each **

Within each **heart** holds love  
Within each **kid** lives hope  
Within each **life** runs blood  
Within each **house** there's hate  
Within each **land** it floods  
Within each **soul** is one  
Within each **mind** we know  
Within each is **our own**


	2. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not much to say about this poem. I was kind of in a weird mood when I wrote it.

**Home**

Once upon a time; I needed a home.  
You took me in and loved me.  
You cared for me and fed me.  
We played everyday and slept every night.  
Then one day the man came.  
The man with the scary eyes.  
He came and you screamed.  
I bit him and he hurt me.  
He took you and I howled.  
He stole you from me.  
He stole you from us.  
They couldn't find you.  
They left me outside.  
I reminded them of you.  
Of the times we would play.  
The times you'd laugh.  
The times you'd cry.  
I was your friend.  
The man took you from me.  
The man with the eyes.  
One night I escaped.  
I escaped and I looked.  
I looked for years.  
Looked for you.  
Until I was here.  
Under this tree; in the dark.  
It was here we played.  
It was here you loved me.  
You cared for me and you fed me.  
It was here the man came.  
The man that took you.  
The man that stole you.  
I knew I was dying.  
I would never save you.  
We would never play again.  
Once upon a time; I had a home.  
It was with you.  
My friend.  
My sister.  
My baby.  
My mother.  
Your heart.


	3. it's just me

**it's just me**

They, Them, He, She   
Who cares? It's just me.   
Small, Tall, Big, Brief   
Who cares? It's just me.   
Dark, Light, Strong, Weak   
Who cares? It's just me.   
Straight, Gay, Other breeds   
Who cares? It's just me.   
You're you, I'm me   
Who cares? We're we.


	4. Singular

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for a picture prompt competition here.   
> http://writersunite.freeforums.org/picture-based-writing-competition-t696-100.html#p16832

**Singular**

He was singular.  
One.  
The last.  
When it all sank away, who was left to stand but him?   
Who was the last to stand but him?  
Through all the light one had to be the last.   
One being, one creature, one life.  
It was him.  
He was it. The last. The final being.  
It was gone around him.   
The land.  
The trees.  
The people.  
The animals.  
None of it was left, except him.  
When the light went out he was left. Left in the darkness.   
The final being.  
The final creature.  
He watched as everything around him sank into blackness.  
He was it.  
A white spec in pure blackness.  
The final piece of life in the end of it all.  
The only singular thing left.   
The last of everything.


	5. Different

There are people out there

People like you or me, them or we

They are no one special. Just a person like you or I

They are nothing, and it is what makes them good

They can be black white purple or green

It’s all the same to them, rich, poor, tall, short, fat skinny

They see nothing but life

They are the people of nature, the people of compassion

The people that see nothing except maybe the color of your eyes

They’re the strength of humanity, wrapped in a bow

They’re either too evolved or not enough but they don’t care

Vanity, wealth, it means nothing. Words on a page, just one of those things

They fit in as outcasts, a trait most wouldn’t choose

The question sits, could someone become them? Could you or I become them? 

Could you lay down your mask, be your true self?

Could you escape the norms set in place by your world?

If the answer is yes

Would you want to? 

It is a sacrifice like no other.

Could you truly do it?

Throw away the makeup, the material possessions.

Could you be purely you without any of those things?

Would they want you to do it?

Perhaps.

Perhaps not. 


End file.
